Adjust the sails
by beautifulwhensarcastic
Summary: Sometimes a small token can evoke the strongest feelings. Especially given with a meaningful promise.


_Thank you to all reviewers, who left so many warm words for my previously posted fics :) _

_And, as always, lots of kisses for my wonderful beta, Trish! _

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><p>She was always mesmerized with the range of emotions clear on Steve's face, even if it seemed like he kept it unruffled, somehow she always saw the shades and lights filling his hazel irises. How they darkened and became cold when anger was tearing at him, or how the joyful shimmers brightened their colour into the most brilliant mix of blue and green if he was relaxed and happy.<p>

Like in that moment, with a cardboard box of cereal, one hand stuck inside, rummaging around. Cath watched his concentrated frown with amusement, but can't help the bright smile at his silly antics. He looked like a little boy impatiently searching for the surprise toy hidden in the cereal.

And suddenly she realized - that was exactly what he was doing!

For a moment that scene seemed surreal, the two of them sitting at the white table in her small kitchen in the rented apartment at Coronado base, which both of them would be leaving permanently in a few days. Steve's messy straight-out-of-bed hair, though Cath was sure hers was looking even worse, both of them munching on cereals with milk, not the best healthy breakfast, but heck they had been so feverishly celebrating Catherine's first surfing lesson none of them even thought about grocery shopping, not to mention they never made it to dinner, though Steve reserved the table...

So there they were, eating the only edible thing they could find and Steve didn't even complain, kissing Cath's neck, his hands on her hips, as she was reaching for the cereal box. And when he smiled at her goofily, his eyes twinkling, mouth full of cornflakes and milk, she couldn't help but smile back.

She watched his face as he finally retrieved the small toy from the box, blue orb approximately one inch diameter, easily fitting into Steve's palm. The sparks in his eyes slowly dimmed as he stared at it, his thoughts taking a course of their own.

After a moment he looked up at Catherine, taking in the sight of her beautiful face. Her hair all messy, brown eyes shimmering, tiny milk line on her upper lip. That was the sight he loved to recapture in his mind while they were separated, granted she looked mesmerizing in camo or in beautiful dresses, practically in everything, but there was something different in those casual, simple moments like this one, which made his heart thump louder. Those rare moments when they were together in this homey atmoshpere, made him believe that maybe one day he'd be lucky enough to once again have a home of his own and a family. And he wanted that with her.

Steve reached for her hand, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist and placing the small plastic item in her palm, his eyes fixed on hers, corners of his mouth curved in a somewhat sad smile.

Her eyes dropped to the blue orb in her hand, bright smile spreading over her lips, "A toy out of a cereal box? Aww, Steve, you shouldn't have," she chuckled.

"Yeah, I know it's corny," he grinned, tips of his ears reddening slightly with embarassment. He kept his fingers curled around her wrist, thumb gently brushing inside of her palm.

"Cornflake-y," Cath corrects him, beaming proudly at her own reply.

But Steve's smile slowly faded, the playfulness which Cath anticipated was nowhere to be found in his eyes.

"Cath," he started. The tone of his voice momentarily evoked worry that crept under Cath's skin. She recognized the slight tremble in Steve's voice, the way he said her name brought back the flashes of memories, when he called her just to listen to her breathing, because something had gone so wrong, he was close to falling apart and needed to somehow feel her presence over the thousand miles of distance. And she always felt so helpless, though knowing her voice was soothing enough, she wanted to do so much more. Steve cleared his throat and continued, "I, uh, I don't give you flowers or presents... and I should-"

"Steve, I don't need any-" she quickly interrupted him, but before she even finished her sentence, he interjected.

"Cath, please, just listen, okay?" he looked at her pleadingly. The intensity of emotion in his eyes as he looked at her made Cath's breath hitch. She slowly nodded, putting her right hand over his tenderly. "It's a bit difficult to follow the routine that other couples do, considering our job. And when we are together the circumstances often make it difficult to organize something, I don't know, romantic or meaningful," he cringed sheepishly, remembering how she laughed at his choice of romantic gestures, "We don't talk much about, uh, __feelings__... and future, but you know, umm, it's not... it doesn't mean I don't think about it. About __us__."

Sometimes it even terrified him, how easy it was to imagine living with her permanently, waking up next to her every day, falling asleep with her body in his arms night after peaceful night.

"I know," Cath's voice was as soft as the small smile she offered him, her fingers gently squeezing his hand. The minimal amount of conversations about future they've had never made her doubt that it was as serious for him as for her. It was always stated in those tiny details, which most people didn't pay attention to, because they looked only for the big speeches and declarations.

But Catherine didn't need to hear Steve saying how he pictured their future, it has been clear in the casual conversations, like the one when he mentioned __their__ garden would consist only of grass and trees, because she's as bad with plants as he is, or maybe even worse, considering that all the herbs she tried to grow died within two days.

"I..." He frowned, trying to find the best words to express his thoughts, but it seemed any logical sentences were stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. Cath waited patiently as he fought with the annoyance over his own difficulty with conveying himself, "It may be out of a cereal box, but it's, uh, it made me think of you. Of us."

Steve brushed the inside of her palm, pointing at the blue orb with a tiny red arrow, before looking up at her, his eyes boring into hers.

"It's a compass. And we, no matter what happens, somehow we always find each other," he said quietly, the intensity of his next words hitting her like a lightning, "Catherine, I will always find a way to come back to you."

"Steve..." her voice cracked as she stared at him, her fingers trembling as she pressed them to her lips to keep the sob from escaping.

In an instant she got up, crossing the small distance between them, sitting down in his lap, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Holding onto him, the toy-compass securely clutched in her hand, she let the emotions take control of her trembling body. Steve's arms instinctively went around her, hugging her tightly, pressing close to him as she crumbled within his embrace. He felt her sigh sinking into his skin along with warm teardrops.

"Hey, don't you cry on me," he nudged her gently, brushing the tears from her cheek as she looked up at him, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I won't," she promised, small nervous laugh falling from her lips, "I won't."

Maybe it was the meaning of his words, or the awareness of the inevitable departure in the next few days, but the sudden need to be as close to him as possible was so deep, it stripped her of all the strength, leaving only the vulnerable fragility.

"What's wrong?" Steve cupped her face in his hands. The tears hadn't stopped flowing and he felt a pang of panic. His eyes searched hers almost desperately, trying to understand what had evoked such a strong reaction.

"I'm scared," she admitted finally, biting on her lip. It was that freezing, catatonic feeling of helplessness that crept in every time they faced another goodbye. Leaving was becoming harder and harder with each day spent together.

"Cath." He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his forehead on hers. He understood, it was tearing him up inside too, the constant uncertainty if this would be the last time they saw each other. Memorizing every detail of her face, her silhouette, her touch, so he could picture it in the darkest moments, hoping that this faint shadow of her presence would ease the pain. At the same time the thought that it might be her thinking of him as she's left somewhere alone, helpless and bloodied, scared the hell out of him.

"I know, Steve," Catherine whispered, closing her eyes, her fingers caressing the hair on the nape of his neck, "I know that's the risk of our jobs. And the fear has always been there, I have grown kind of accustomed to it. I know how to suppress it, how to make it through, how to cope, hell, even using it as a fuel to work twice as hard, twice as much, to make sure that you... that someone, who depends on my intel, gets back safe. But sometimes..." she took a deep breath to steady the emotions still piercing through her body, "Sometimes I just can't help, but think, where are you, are you safe, when will you come back. Not knowing where you are is so hard, but then, when I do know, it's even harder..."

Steve slowly nodded. So many times he wondered how she managed to survive not knowing his whereabouts, while he got worried so often even though he knew exactly where she was stationed. It must have been hard for her and he didn't make things easy when he called her out of nowhere just to vent, not telling her about what happened or how badly he was injured. And yet she still was there for him.

There was nothing they could do to change the situation, the Navy chose their paths and tasks, they both knew it when they joined the Academy, as well as they knew the risks and burden of maintaining a relationship in these circumstances.

But Steve never regretted that choice. It was so worth it, even if for long months they had nothing beside a short phone call once every few weeks. The sound of Catherine's voice on the other end made up for every gruesome day.

"We can't control the wind, but we can adjust the sails," taking a deep breath, he wiped the traces of her tears from her cheeks.

Catherine blinked, looking at him with increasing amazement, "Did you just use a naval credo for our relationship?"

"It suits us," Steve shrugged, proud grin spreading on his lips. He completely beamed as she laughed, and God it was the most amazing sound in the world.

"Yes, it does," she admitted, smiling at him.


End file.
